


約束する (this is not easy love)

by jesspava



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, general timeline fuckery, idk what happened but i miss eruri so have 8k of wordspat, manga/anime spoilers, or mostly hurt and no comfort lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:43:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesspava/pseuds/jesspava
Summary: “I don't believe in God,” Levi said quietly, smelling rain, and grass, and blood. There were Titans at their feet, and soldiers at Erwin’s.“But I believe in you.”





	約束する (this is not easy love)

**Author's Note:**

> yes i know eruri has been dead for approx 80 yrs now but i finally caught up w the manga, was forced to reevaluate my life, crashed headfirst into a major depressive episode, watched endg*me, shit like that & it all culminated to me finally writing something for the first time in months. we love emotional catharsis ! 
> 
> **warnings:**  
>  -ANIME SPOILERS !!!!! as the show hasn't caught up to the manga yet  
> -MANGA SPOILERS!!!!! if you haven't finished up to the new chapters  
> -ambiguous timeline fuckery  
> -canon typical violence/behavior  
> 

Levi does not cry. 

When Erwin returned (from a mission without Levi; he has never been on a mission since he was made Commander without Levi; even far from the center of the formation, he has always been there to make sure he stays alive because Levi cannot trust any other soldier to do what is necessary; they do not have his skill, his strength, his loyalty; they do not understand the weight of his trust) with the rusted stump of an arm and Levi hated the body he’d been confined to, locked the door behind the doctors and the soldiers to button up Erwin’s shirt on his own before he fisted thin fingers in the fabric of it and shook and shook, but he did not cry.

It’s strange, thinking that God must have forgotten to complete him. 

“I can’t keep you safe,” Levi said, once. He’s no stranger to fear, had lived in the swamp of it Underground, but it came as a different breed then; Erwin cradling his broken ankle with two hands, and then just the one.“What am I supposed to do?” 

Erwin, who always had answers, had none.

Levi knew better than to ask again.

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

“You really think that Jaeger boy has what it takes?” Levi asks, though he’s never been one to question Erwin’s decisions. He thinks about too much, too far in advance, too fast. “Looked a minute away from pissing himself back there.” 

Erwin’s lips turn up at the corners. “He’ll be fine,” he says without looking up from his reports. “Trust is blind.” 

“Trust is stupid,” he says. 

Slender fingers rearrange the stack of reports Erwin’s gone through. Levi leans backwards against his desk, legs slid out in front of him, one bent at the knee. He still can’t read as fast as Erwin, so he’s only halfway down the page when he starts scribbling notes into the margins. 

“He’s going to ruin your plan,” Levi says eventually. He slides the paper neatly into a folder, closes the drawer with his foot.

“That’s why I put him in your squad.”

“You think I’ll be able to stop Jaeger from doing anything?” he says, amused. “That boy would tear himself apart to kill a Titan.” 

“You can,” he seals a letter with wax, tilting the candle down to the envelope.

“Mhm,” he says, taking Erwin’s chin in one hand and turning his head up so their eyes meet. He leans down to smooth out the lines on his forehead. “You’re going to wrinkle if you keep doing that.” 

Erwin reaches up to curl fingers around Levi’s wrist.

“I know you’re worried,” Levi says. His expression hasn’t changed. 

Erwin smiles, tired. “I try to care,” he says. 

“You don’t need to,” Levi replies, when it’s clear Erwin would rather stare at him than actually talk. “The trainees still don’t understand why we aren’t in the same squadron.”

His eyes are heavy-lidded, dense, head tipped down to Erwin’s. There’s something in the air between them, and when Levi drops his hand from Erwin’s cheek, he catches his wrist again on the way down to curl their fingers together.

“It’s tactically sound.” 

“Because you trust me.” 

Something flickers across Erwin’s eyes. Nothing more, but it’s enough that he understands. “I do,” he says quietly, running a hand up Levi’s thigh. It must say something about their composure, Levi thinks, that he sees through right through him.

“Do you doubt me?” 

Erwin is silent. “You’ve lied to me.” 

“And look how that ended,” he says. “You’ve been outrunning me since the start.” 

“It could be the only reason why you’re here.” 

It’s not doubt. They both understand how to keep friends close, and enemies even closer. 

Levi’s expression is sour. “You know it’s not,” he says, closing the distance between them. Erwin lifts one of Levi’s legs up to fit in the space between his thighs on the chair.

Erwin smiles: small and secret. He wraps a hand around Levi’s slender ankle, and the power in his fist alone should scare him, but it doesn’t. He’s made of habit of letting Erwin take whatever he needs, even if it means breaking him — again, again.

“Have you ever trusted anyone?” 

“Once.” 

“What happened?” 

“They died.” 

Pause. 

“Are you going to try and kill me, Erwin?” 

“No.” 

His hands have traveled up Levi’s calves, settle around the thin rind of his knee.

“I’m not lying to you.” 

Erwin’s expression is unreadable. “Alright.” 

“Most of Sina agrees with me.” 

“I wouldn’t put so much weight on gossip.” 

“You have an ear out for it. Must mean something then.” 

Erwin laughs through his nose. “Shadis agreed with them.” 

He reaches down to cradle his face with both hands. “Erwin,” he says. He brings their foreheads together. Erwin’s breath comes warm against the skin of his cheek. 

“Levi.” 

It has always been them from the start: the Commander’s shadow. Levi leaning against the wall by his shoulder, dragging his feet through Upper Sina. Where Erwin goes, it is inevitable that Levi follows. He needs only ask. Most of the time not even that.

“We have a traitor in our midst,” Erwin says.

“Okay.”

“It could be anyone here.” 

“Except me.” 

“Except you,” Erwin agrees. 

“What are we going to do now?” 

“Keep it to yourself.” 

“I was planning to do that anyway,” Levi says. “I'm not stupid.” 

Erwin leans up to press a kiss to the corner of his thin mouth. “I know.” 

“Cut the bullshit, old man,” Levi says, but there’s no heat in his voice. Nearly tender, if he was capable. “I can see right through you.” 

Before Erwin can find the right reply, Levi shuts him up with a kiss.

“Whatever I can give you,” he says, once they break for air. “Whatever you need me to do—”

“Without question?” 

“Yes.” 

“And if I asked you to kill?” 

“I’m not that breakable,” Levi says. “You never managed to unmake a murderer, hard as you tried.” 

Erwin’s thumb strokes the back of his neck. He stiffens instinctively, then forces himself to relax into the touch. 

“I only take my orders from you anyway.” 

“I know.”

Levi huffs, nearly a laugh. 

“Are you offended?” 

Levi kisses him again. “No,” he says. 

“Good.” 

He pushes at Erwin’s shoulder, and Erwin lets him — falling back against his chair with his eyes fixed on Levi’s face. He kicks his thigh with a socked foot. Then: “I’ll keep Jaeger in check,” he says, non-sequitur. One less thing for him to worry about. It’s his job, after all, to watch over Erwin when he can’t do it himself.

“Thank you.” 

Levi hums. 

“I’m going to go clean,” he says, after a while. “I need my boot back.” 

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

Levi breaks his ankle. It is not a pretty fracture. 

When they get back from the expedition, the pain is so bad that he can’t walk, dismounting his horse and having to grab blindly for the saddle when his leg buckles underneath him. It’s a good thing the rest of the Corps are too busy picking up behind themselves to notice the way he disappears into headquarters without so much as a backwards glance. 

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Erwin asks: controlled, furious. He’s got the same face on as the one he uses to intimidate his men, but it’s never worked on Levi and it’s sure as hell not going to start now.

“It's bad for morale,” Levi says. He’s pissy and irritable, sneer twisting his mouth as Erwin gets down on one knee in front of his bed, cradling his ankle in his hand. The image is not lost on him, less so when Levi says: “The Legion’s whore, Erwin Smith?” 

“Only yours,” he says, pulling his belt off and handing it to Levi. 

“I’m not fucking feral.” 

“It’s going to hurt.” 

“It already hurts.” 

Erwin tugs at the heel of Levi’s boot, and his vision nearly whites out with pain.

“Fuck,” he says. He tips backwards, fixes a glare on the ceiling before shoving Erwin’s belt between his teeth. “Just get it over with.”

It takes Erwin half a second to wrap one hand around Levi’s shin and the other around the sole of his boot and damn near rip the thing in half. Levi’s ankle is so swollen under the leather that it refuses to give way at first, a scream trapped like a bone at the base of his throat until his vision clears and his fingers stop tingling and he realizes that Erwin’s managed to splint his foot while he was trying not to choke on his own vomit.

“Augh,” he says, spitting Erwin’s belt out of his mouth. The imprints of his teeth are gouged into the leather. “Fuck,” he pinches his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Fuck— _shit_ , Erwin I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” he says, shoving a pillow under his leg to support his ankle. “It’s okay.” 

“Fucking hell,” Levi swears, eyes shut. The fracture must be worse than he thought; he’s going to be out of commission for too long. “Erwin,” he says, because he has nothing else to hold onto. He’s never been a day in the field without his Commander, and Erwin has never been Commander a day without Levi either. “Shit, Erwin—” 

“I know,” he says, brushing Levi’s hair back from his face. He still won’t look him in the eye, just grinds his teeth together. Levi reaches, fumbling, for his hand.

“It’ll take too long.” 

“We’ll make it work.” 

Levi shakes his head. Something is stuck in his throat. “You can’t do it alone,” he says, as close to desperation as he’ll ever get. It’s part pain and part exhaustion. “I won’t be there.” 

“You don’t trust me?” 

“That’s not the problem.” 

Erwin turns his eyes down to the place their hands meet. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“You should be.” 

He doesn’t lick his lips, but Levi knows all of his tells by now. Erwin tightens his grip around his calf. They don’t say anything else. 

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

Levi does not cry. When Erwin returns with nothing but fever, blood, and hysteria, he does not cry.

“I told you,” is the first thing he says when his Commander is coherent enough to put words together. Levi curls around him where they’re lying in bed, pulling Erwin to his chest by the shoulders, careful of his missing arm. His hair is matted to his forehead with damp sweat and nightmares, pain creased into the aging lines of his skin, Levi coaxing him to fist what fingers he has left into the front of his shirt as he struggles to swallow the scream that nearly broke loose. “What did you do, Erwin?” he asks, voice thin. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” 

“There was no other way,” Erwin replies.

He is feverish, still, even after weeks asleep. He’s weak enough to let Levi feed him when night comes, bares his throat to Levi’s shaving knife, can hardly make it to the bath alone. The Titan has taken more than he can put words to, and with Levi injured, it’s no secret that the Legion will suffer until he’s back in the field. 

Erwin, who has been in the Corps far longer than Levi. Erwin, who seemed as invincible as him. Erwin, who wasn’t supposed to be defeated, wasn’t supposed to surrender to death inside the Walls—

_Yes_ , Levi thinks, pained, to himself. _There was no other way._

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

Before the fighting closes in on them again, Levi spends more time than he should by the ocean. The kids talk, of course they do; it’s only fair to let them gossip while they still can. 

“Captain,” comes a voice, then, quiet by his shoulder.

His head turns to one side. “Arlert,” he replies. “You should be asleep.” 

“So should you.” 

Levi huffs. “Someone’s gotten bold.” 

“It’s not like I have much to lose anymore.” 

_Oh,_ Levi thinks, the pain hitting him like a thunderbolt. _You have no idea._  

“Do you now.” 

Armin refuses to back down, opens his mouth. 

“If you’re trying to thank me for something,” Levi says. “Don’t.” 

“It’s about Erwin.” 

Levi turns from him. He doesn’t need this from one of his kids.

“Go away, Arlert.” 

He stands his ground. “I know it’s my fault he died,” he says. Levi’s eyebrow twitches. He’s been chipping away at the edges for years; the last thing he needs is Armin to lose faith in him too. 

“Are you Zeke Jaeger?” Levi asks dourly. 

That, at least, gets him to falter. “No…?”

“Then last I checked, you’re not the one who killed him.”

“Captain—”

Levi sighs, running a hand down his face. “Get to the point or go away. You’ve had all day to bother me already.” 

He doesn’t actually think it’ll get rid of the boy, but he’s still surprised when Armin says: “He fought for you.” 

Levi laughs, once he recovers from the shock. 

“I let him use me,” he says. “You don’t know half of it, kid; stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

“I’m not,” Armin tries. “He wasn’t.” 

“For humanity then,” he corrects, sharper this time. A headache’s started to come in at his temples. 

“Not like that,” Armin says, sounding very certain. His hair turns up in the wind, then down again.

Levi keeps his eyes cast over the horizon. Arlert knows, then. 

“Hm,” he replies, distracted.

He’s thinking of Erwin’s basement, thinks about death and dismemberment and graveyards, about losing everything called home. Fuck that. Levi doesn’t care how much Erwin loved him: all that matters is that he left in the end. Same way as his mother, same way as Kenny, wheezing their way through Death’s door with him clawing desperately on the other end. He’s always hated feeling helpless, and for once— just once, he wishes he could have something of his own. 

Armin sits down on the sand by his feet. With his hair short, gleaming blonde under moonlight off the waves, it feels like the dreams Levi’s had of Erwin by the shore. 

Then: “Arlert,” he sighs, watching the kid stiffen. He turns his head halfway.

“Yeah?” 

Levi tries for a breath. It doesn’t come. And then thinks to himself— _fuck it._

“When I joined the Corps,” he says. “I thought I’d be dead in a week.” 

His limbs ache, and he can’t tell if it’s because of the cold or if it’s because he tires so easily these days.

“I don’t know how the pieces are falling,” he says. “But I don’t have much reason to fight except that I’m pretty shit at everything else.” 

Armin laughs through his nose, head tipping down to his chest. “I wouldn’t say that.” 

“I’m too old to come out of this war alive,” he says. He’s not sure what it is about this Arlert boy that’s managed to get past his senses the way Erwin used to. Levi knows they’re similar, but he strikes all his buried corpses without even trying. 

Armin’s answer is almost instantaneous. “He would want you to.” 

“Selfish bastard.” 

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.” 

Levi laughs, bitter. “He said that to me a lot too.” 

“I know,” Armin says, again, turning to look back over the horizon. A spray of stars, then nothing but the night sky beyond. “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Levi says, sand getting in his uniform. “Though,” he says. “I can’t tell if it’s for that blonde asshole or myself.”

Armin sinks a little bit into the sand. 

“Hm,” he says. 

Levi sinks a little bit into the sand. 

“Hm,” he says, too. 

Between them, there is only the mourning, molten sound of crashing surf.

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

“When I die,” Erwin said, once, when Levi had been changing his bandages. “Would you cry for me?” 

Levi, who was busy turning basin water pink with his blood, did not bother to look up from the sink. “Do you want me to?” 

It was not a question, like many things that Levi had asked of him. 

It was quiet. Levi disinfected the stitches on the underside of his missing arm, careful to check for pus and blood, then wrapped his shoulder with fresh gauze. His fingers were nimble and precise, and closed up the bandages without trouble. 

Then: “If I were a selfish man—” 

Levi’s head jerked up to the door at the sound of knocking. He swore under his breath, scrubbing his hands furiously clean before yanking the door of Erwin’s room open for Pixis. 

“Come in,” he said to him, irritable. 

Erwin never answers his question.  
 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

If Levi hadn’t already spent his life bargaining for time, he would’ve slaughtered every one of the Military Police by now. Levi has, and will always be, the only one allowed to touch Erwin.

“They tortured you,” Levi says, angry. Furious would probably be a better word for it, but he doesn’t have the luxury of an outburst right now. Maybe ever. 

“I’m alright.” 

“That’s not the problem,” Levi seethes, closing the distance between them in the safehouse to drag him down by the shirtfront. Levi had forgotten the way he looked up close: his fine lines and wrinkles, the sharp turn of his cheek. “The problem is that you lied to me.” 

Erwin’s hands come up to wrap around his wrists. He can’t tell if he’s trying to ground himself or keep Levi from flying away. “I did what had to be done.” 

“Lying to me,” Levi snarls. “Is never what has to be done.” 

Erwin opens his mouth, then closes it. His eyes haven’t changed, but the lines around his mouth have softened with understanding, and fuck him for taking that long to realize that Levi doesn’t forget his promises, when he finally gives up everything he expects the same in return. 

Levi is the one who has to break eye contact first, dropping his hands from Erwin’s shirt to close the distance between them. He presses his face into his chest, something terrible clawing itself up his throat. Erwin must have bathed recently because he smells mostly of soap, but underneath the clean is his skin: the reminder that this isn’t a dream. 

Erwin sucks in a breath, just quick enough to betray his surprise when Levi pushes up onto his toes and wraps arms around his shoulders, buries his face quietly in the crook of his neck. He’s never initiated touch like this; sex, he doesn’t count. 

Levi is harsh with his words, harsher with the way he moves. It must have been trying, dealing with the mess of Kenny and Erwin and all else. This is when it occurs to him that this is the longest they’ve been apart since he joined the Corps. 

“Ah,” Erwin says. “I see.” 

Levi doesn’t move. “Took you long enough.” 

“Sorry,” he replies, halfway to fond. “I’m getting old.” 

“No,” Levi says. “Just stupid.” 

Erwin presses lips to his hair.

“Anyone ever told you that before?” 

Erwin laughs. “Yes,” he says. “You.”

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

When Erwin kisses him for the first time, Levi flinches backwards so violently he nearly takes himself out. 

“Nobody’s ever done that before?” Erwin asks, later in his office. Levi’s perched, feline, on his desk, keeping himself busy with the teapot.

“No,” he says, thinking of the Underground, and his dying mother. “Just you.”

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

Levi gets injured on his fifth expedition. One minute he’s cutting down Titans, and the next a dead soldier’s blade is tearing him open from chest to navel, Levi coughing a mouthful of shocked blood onto the speckled grass below.

“Sorry,” Nanaba grunts, shouldering his weight. He hadn’t been sure, at first, how they would perform in the same squad. He respects her now: the quiet grace, no-nonsense attitude. “This is gonna hurt.” 

If he wasn’t too busy being distracted by the pain, he might’ve laughed at the understatement. 

She hauls him onto his horse. She cuts up Benji’s old gear to tie him in; he turns his head to spit out a mouthful of blood once they start moving, and then spends the last half of the ride emptying out the contents of his stomach. Nanaba’s eyes flick to where Levi’s slumped over in his saddle before yanking him upright again.

Sweat pools uncomfortably at Levi’s temples, the crook of his joints. He can’t feel the arm pressed up against his stomach by the time they arrive at camp, and the next thing he’s aware of is Erwin cutting him from Nanaba’s makeshift harness, shifting him like a ragdoll until he rests better against his front. He asks her something. Levi doesn’t understand a word, just thinks of how much blood he’s getting on Erwin’s uniform.

“Benji didn’t make it,” she replies evenly. 

“It seems his sword did,” that’s Shadis, but the rest of the conversation is lost again. 

Erwin carries him through camp, Levi swearing through his teeth the entire time. He ends the expedition in a fever haze — first in a cart, then on a horse with Erwin’s voice in his ear: _you_ _can’t let them see you injured,_ his hair so blonde he can’t tell it apart from the sun.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” Levi rasps, when they get back to HQ and he can’t get off his fucking horse. The ground’s too far away. Has it always spun like that? He blinks again and again and then he’s on his back in Erwin’s room, gear pooled on the ground next to his knees. He’s sponging Levi’s stitches clean — what the _fuck._  

“Be careful,” Erwin says, in the middle of it. 

Levi forces his eyes open and stares until his vision blurs, and Erwin’s face turns blue with night, then yellow from a candle. He’s not sure when any of this happens; time tumbles together in a rush until he wakes to the sound of his mother singing.

“Mom?” he asks, tongue thick in his throat. His mouth is dry, but he forces the words out anyway. It must be a dream — Levi hasn’t seen her in decades — but the curves of her face are so clear the childish, naive part of him swears it can’t be a memory. “Kaachan,” he says, the syllables rounding his lips. “Kaachan.” 

She sits close, blurred by candlelight, rocking lightly in her chair. Levi tries to move, but it feels like he’s been tied down to the mattress and no matter how hard he tries to scream, the sound won’t leave his teeth. Her hair falls thick and dark over one shoulder. Kuchel’s hands are very delicate. Something in him comes alive, rippling.

Levi supposes he didn’t know his mother long enough to miss her, but he remembers the way his name sounded in her mouth. Nobody called him Levi for a long time after she died. Kenny tended to address him with an array of colorful nicknames before leaving him with a knife in his hand and a corpse by his feet. 

She leans in past the glow of the candle on the beside table. He looks at her with wide eyes. Something’s wrong, he knows. He tastes blood against his teeth.

Kuchel opens her mouth, breath scorching, the shriek of a dying Titan. Levi knows the sound well; he’s killed many of them.

“Levi, Levi,” she’s saying. Her shoulders tear the fabric of her dress to shreds when muscle distends in all directions; she’s going to crush him alive. “Oh, Levi, I’m sorry.” 

He can’t move. He bangs against his own skeleton from the inside out, but all Levi can do is watch in horror as her bones snap backwards into her new body, a Titan noise, the roof creaking against the pressure, and now the candle’s out and his name is still in her mouth like a bastardized prayer and he has never been so afraid of anything in his life because this is mother, _this is mother,_ this is the one thing the world was supposed to leave untouched, but his nightmares are coming full circle and he’s helpless to fight it even after all the years he tried for invincibility. 

_Levi—_  

Kenny has his hands wrapped around his throat. 

_Levi—_

Blood in his mouth, Isabel’s dead eyes watching him through the window.

_Levi!_

Kuchel’s face is no longer her own, and someone touches their fingers to his elbow and something primal comes loose in him and Levi’s eyes snap open and he _snarls,_ teeth bared like a bull-hound, as he fumbles blindly for the arm that’s holding him down so he can twist, meant to break, but—

_“Levi, it’s me,”_ Erwin yells. 

He chokes on a mouthful of air — tastes copper and sweat and the bitter residue of medicine — and freezes. He sees everything fever-bright, hair matted, thin, to his forehead. 

“Breathe,” Erwin says, holding him down. There’s a cold cloth to his forehead, and then Erwin’s frowning down at him, something about the way his hands look against his body. “It’s alright.” 

Levi blinks up at him through rusted lashes. “Fuck,” he rasps, brows furrowed, collapsing backwards onto the mattress. Then, after a minute: “Erwin?” 

“It’s me,” he confirms. He leaves his hand on Levi’s chest.

“Shit,” he says. He’s starting to make sense of it now. Then, after a moment: “How long…?”

“Two, three days,” Erwin says. “You’ll be fine.” 

Levi's bones ache.

“The wound hasn’t festered yet. It’s unlikely it’ll get infected now.” 

“And the fever?” 

Erwin’s mouth pinches. “I’m told it’ll break by the end of the week.” 

He doesn’t ask what day it is. 

It’s silent for a while longer. Levi’s too tired to search for words, and Erwin closes one hand gently over the turn of his ribs, thumb hovering over the worst of the injury. 

“It’s going to scar,” he says.

Erwin looks down at him. “Yes,” he says. “It will.” 

Levi opens his eyes. His fingers twitch where they’re fisted loosely in the covers. Erwin picks up on it. He’s surprised how well they know each other now. 

“We’ll match,” Erwin murmurs, then, pressing his fingers to the scar on his neck.

Levi’s lips are chapped, but they still curl feline at the corners when he says: “You didn’t give this one to me.” 

His expression softens. Levi wants to punch the look off his face. “Titans did,” Erwin says.

“Sure,” Levi allows, after a long minute of searching and coming up empty. He thinks there’s something poetic about Erwin’s reply, just doesn’t know what to name it. If it even has one at all. “They did.” 

Erwin’s hand has come up to his shoulder, then, and when he curls his fingers together, his knuckles press up against the underside of Levi’s cheek, his jaw. It’s insane, delirious: the thoughts that come to mind. 

“Can you see me?” Levi asks, weary.

Erwin lets Levi ghost a touch over his throat. “Yes,” he says.

He knows, now, how many demons Erwin’s shoved up under his tongue. The pale, overstretched pink of his scar: skin that never learned how to grow back properly. Imperfection has always been a terrible and expensive vulnerability.

“I see you too,” he murmurs, for lack of better words. He can’t tell if it’s the fever that’s heating him up like this, or if it’s Erwin’s fault. He blinks, hair all over his forehead. “So it’s okay.”

“Yes,” Erwin says on a laugh, almost relieved. He must have realized, now: he’s always had Levi. Has always had him so bad. “Yes.”

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

(When he dies, Levi prays:  _Please, God, forgive me._ He says:  _I’m sorry, this is all I have left to give._ )

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

Erwin had asked him, once, after the carnage of Wall Maria, when they stood over a blood-splattered roof, the gouged skull of a Titan turning gold with them over the last sliver of sunset:

_Do you believe in God?_

“No,” Levi said, very simply. He cleaned off his gear. His gas was running low, but he would make it to camp just fine. He thought of Sina, and counted his blades. Thought of its weeping streets, the starving children. “Not in Hell.” 

Erwin didn’t press for an explanation. He was turned out to the light, but Levi was looking up into his face. They had been together for a while now; he could’ve recalled his features without fail, but, still, he did. His Commander remained motionless.

“I do not believe in God,” Levi continued quietly, smelling rain, and grass, and blood.

It was suddenly very quiet. He looked away. There were Titans at their feet, and soldiers, too, at Erwin’s. 

“But I believe in you.”

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

When he first joined the Corps, he and Mike were never in a friendly way. It was only after Levi cut Erwin out of a Titan’s mouth did the shape of him change, but, still, in the blue night with the others gone, Mike had turned to Levi and said: _you’re not worth a piece of him._

Levi looked steady back at him: it was the truth. It didn’t sting. They had both swallowed enough of the world to hate it already. 

It’s three years later into the war on one of those miserable nights: bad weather, dead men, Levi unable to breathe inside the Walls when Mike asks: “What do you think you’ll do after this?” 

Levi leans back in his seat, watching the rest of the bar from the shadows. It’s just the two of them. He can’t remember when he and Mike started being friends. The question is upsetting, and Levi doesn’t know why, though he supposes they’re veterans now, having accompanied Erwin to enough parties in Sina to want to gouge his own eyes out. 

“You think we’ll make it out alive?” Levi asks.

Mike shrugs, nurses his beer. “It’s good to have dreams,” he says. Then, as if he’s realized something important, sets down his glass. He turns to Levi, features shadowed strangely. “Ah,” he says, eyebrows raised an inch. 

Levi scowls. “What?” he asks. He’s not drunk enough for this conversation, but the years spent sober in the Underground left him with a painfully short tolerance for alcohol. He couldn’t drink if he tried.

“Do you have dreams, Levi?” Mike asks. 

Levi’s scowl deepens. “I don’t want to die.” 

“That’s not a dream.” 

“It’s mine.” 

Mike turns halfway to him, lips twitching. He drains his glass in one go, wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve just to watch him glare. “You really don’t see yourself alive after all this?”

Levi shrugs, stays silent. He’s never been fond of mincing words. 

Then: “How do you think you’ll die?” 

Levi over, startled. It must show in his eyes some because Mike’s expression gentles around the edges, the hard lines by his mouth and jaw coming loose.

“You’ve never thought about that either.” 

He frowns, trying to collect himself. “Waste of my time,” he says. Mike looks curious, but he doesn’t press. The silence stretches enough for Levi to heave an aggravated sigh. “Paranoia affects your performance.” 

Mike nods sagely. Levi can’t quite tell if he’s bullshitting or not.

“Don’t do that,” he says sourly. 

Mike looks at him. “What?”

“Copy Erwin.” 

“Is it a bad thing?” 

“Yes,” Levi says, waspish. He twitches. “One of him is annoying enough.”

Mike grins this time. “Really?” 

“ _Fuck_ off.” 

“I’m just curious,” he says.

“Go be curious somewhere else,” Levi replies, irritable. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not here to talk about my sex life, Mike Zacharius.” 

“I never said we were.” 

“Hmp,” Levi says, leaning back in his seat.

The silence that comes between them is comfortable then, Mike flagging down the barmaid to order another round, Levi shaking his head at the offer. Not all soldiers can be six foot something giants, but alcohol aside — Levi doesn’t mind. He wouldn’t be able to fight the way he does if he was any taller, wouldn’t be able to drag Erwin by the back of the neck from a Titan’s closing teeth to keep him safe. Levi’s shaped his body to the knife edge starting at age six, and the finely tuned pieces of him would stop working if he grew. He lives to serve his Commander. 

On the walk back to HQ, Levi asks him: “What was that about anyway?” 

Mike looks down at him. He shrugs, though he doesn’t mean it. 

“I needed to be sure about Erwin.” 

“I’m not going to break his heart.” 

“It’s not about love,” he says mildly, turning his eyes out to the street again. “About how far you would go to save his life.” 

Levi doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet. 

“You’ve always been stronger than me, Levi,” he says. “A better warrior.”

Mike tucks hands into his pockets, and the way he moves is graceful, sinuous. He looks three steps away from a killer. “You make the Corps what it is, but you could dismantle it just as easily.” 

Levi frowns. “That’s Erwin,” he says. “Not me.”

Mike laughs through his nose. The sound comes out bitter. Levi’s not a humble man, but he is so oblivious to it: the weight he carries. “It’s the two of you now,” he says. It’s been long enough that everyone’s forgotten the place Erwin pulled him from. The Commander and his Corporal. “If you keep him safe, the rest of Humanity follows.”

“I’m not a hero,” is all Levi can say.

Mike smiles, a secret thing. “I know,” he says. “You don’t fight for them.” 

Levi looks sideways at him. “I don’t,” he agrees.

“But you fight for Erwin.” 

Levi swallows, fingers twitching under his cloak. He knows what Mike’s trying to get at, though he’s unsure if he wants to hear it said aloud.

“Levi,” Mike says quietly. “Understand that he’s always been a dreamer. He can’t help it.” 

A carriage passes by, hooves cluttering down the street. 

“When I’m not here anymore— no, listen,” he holds up a hand to stop Levi’s protest. “I’m not making it out of this war.” 

Levi looks down, wishing he could go a day without thinking of death. He realizes now that Mike is asking, when he has never asked before.

“You have to watch him. On the Wall, by the sea, whatever. Or else he’s going to fly away on his own.” 

The sound of their boots against the cobblestones is suddenly, and startlingly loud. Then, so quiet that Levi nearly misses it: “Please.” 

Levi looks up, surprised. Mike slows his pace, and looks back.

Levi followed Erwin, who has always been the highest bidder in this house of lives, because it seemed like the right thing to do. It— felt like the right thing to do. Such decisions are still novel in his life.

He curls his fingers into a fist by his side.

“Okay,” he says, as if it’s been that easy from the start.

Mike doesn’t quite smile, but it’s a close thing. 

“I will,” Levi promises.

His promises have always been absolute. 

Mike turns away. Levi gets the image of the clouds rolling in like fog.

“Thank you,” he says. 

Fourteen months later, Mike Zacharius dies in the mouth of the Beast Titan.

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

Erwin has never laid a hand on Levi, even during their worst arguments. His words cut more, besides. Levi has never been so thoroughly gutted before. 

“Do you love anything?” Erwin had asked. That terrible placidness. “Are you even capable of that?”

He had apologized later, of course, when Levi had been so shocked that he couldn’t put a decent word in his mouth. He heard Kenny in his head — _you’re a monster, kiddo; own up to it already_ — and the feeling of Mike’s big hand on the back of his neck with the Sina Underground pressing down on him from above, could recognize the moment Erwin realized he’d hit too close to the piece of Levi he never learned how to crystallize.

“I do trust you,” Erwin says quietly, later, he searches Levi’s face, almost like he’s unsure. Still, Levi can’t find it in himself to speak. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize sooner.” 

It’s probably stupid how easily he pulls away. “Sure,” he says. Then he adds, almost like an afterthought: “It’s okay that you don’t love me.” 

The following silence is loud enough, Erwin quiet for so long that Levi’s face burns. He turns on his heel, making for the door, feeling as if he can’t breathe, like the walls are closing in the longer Erwin towers over him like some stupid fucking giant, that bolo tie hanging off his neck, the strangled blue of his eyes in the glow of lamplight. 

Levi makes it half a step before he’s grabbed by the wrist.

“Let me go,” he snaps. 

“Levi.” 

“Let me go,” he says, harder this time. “I’m not wasting my time listening to your lies, Erwin Smith,” his grip doesn’t give. “ _Let me go,_ I swear to fucking God—”

“I do,” Erwin says, suddenly, like a bad confession. He looks as if he’d taken a bite out of a lemon, then, lips so thin they’re practically nonexistent. His eyes flicker. Brief, but enough for Levi to notice. Erwin’s thumb strokes the inside of his wrist, and if he wasn’t so far gone Levi might’ve found the touch stifling, but he can’t find it in himself to pull away.

Fuck Erwin and stupid games. He’d nearly forgotten what they’d been arguing about by the time he leans in and flips his grip to tug him another step closer.

“What?” he bites out. 

“Look at me?” 

Levi glares. “No,” he says.

Erwin just smiles, the absolute bastard. “I’m sorry,” he says, and then reaches out to cradle Levi’s face with his hands. He doesn’t say _I didn’t mean it,_ because he did, and Levi doesn’t say _it’s okay,_ because it’s not. Suddenly he’s shaking all over like a spooked horse, gritting his teeth to stop them from chattering. 

Levi watches Erwin and Erwin watches him back. Then, past the height difference and the rank, past the places they’d lived as children, when Erwin’s eyes flick to his lips and Levi knows without having to be told, pushing up on his toes to meet him halfway, one hand on his chest, the other caught midair like a bird in flight.

It doesn’t take long for Erwin’s hands to slip under Levi’s jacket, to tug his shirt loose from the rest of his uniform, for Levi to break for air and ask without opening his mouth, eyes dark, coal. 

They make love for the first time that night, stumbling up to Erwin’s room. When Levi comes on the turn of a high noise, Erwin watches like he means to remember, and when he puts lips to Levi’s skin, later, he asks: “Am I the first who’s ever caged you?” 

Levi looks at him. “I wouldn’t think so highly of yourself, Smith,” he says dryly. 

The lines on Erwin’s face soften like he’s about to fall asleep. Maybe he is. 

Then: “Stop trying to get up,” Levi sighs, holding Erwin down into the mattress with a hand to the forehead. It’s surprising how comfortable he is here, the smell of him everywhere and around. “You’re not going to get any work done like this.” 

“My men—”

Levi scowls at him. “Our men,” he corrects, eyebrow twitching. He slides under the covers, pushing Erwin around until he’s comfortable enough to use as a pillow, closing his eyes when a hand slips up his waist, then to the turn of his hip. “Go to sleep, old man,” he says, peeved. “Your games can wait until the sun’s up.” 

Erwin opens his mouth to say something, but Levi shuts him up with a kiss, turning his face to the side with a hand on his chin.

“Sleep,” he murmurs again, eyes half lidded. He strokes the bruise that’s starting to deepen below the notch of Erwin’s throat. Levi presses his lips to Erwin’s forehead, his temple, to keep him quiet. “I’ll take first watch,” he says, settling down under the covers.

Erwin is strangely quiet. He laces their fingers together, looking at Levi as if he’s something new. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

The first night, when all the others have gone to sleep, Levi comes to the water. 

He drinks it just for taste, rolling the grit around his teeth, thinks of the salt drying down his throat. Loving Erwin was much the same; he drank and drank and all it did was make him ache for more. 

Kenny asked him, before he died: _what are you a slave to?_

Underground, he didn’t care much whether or lived or died. But it had been Isabel and Farlan for a while. Then Erwin. _God_ — Erwin. Levi sinks to his knees in the wet sand, water rolling up his thighs.

“It was you,” he says, the sound of crashing surf enough to muffle his words. Levi’s weight comes down on all fours, his shoulders slumped, hair damp. “In the end it was you.” 

The moon is painted in a sliver of white overhead. Erwin was supposed to make it to the end of the war. Not Levi. _Fucking_ —shit. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, the words tumbling from the base of his throat.

His whole body shudders, breathing ragged and unwound. It comes out, then, all the years he’d stopped up inside. 

“I loved you,” he says, like he’s just been hit.

Confession has never tasted to cruel.

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

Levi doesn’t drink. It’s his rule.

He doesn’t mind it when the others do — Mike and Nanaba have never been loud, and Erwin’s always buried so deep in his office that his friends have started taking bets on how it’ll be before he fuses with the rest of his furniture to bother him when he does, so it surprises him when it’s late enough to be early and Levi’s shaking off a nightmare in the training rigs, 3DMG rattling as he flies past the last copse of trees and lands on the rooftop of HQ to hear Nanaba calling his name. 

Levi looks at her. “What are you doing?” 

“What does it look like?” she laughs, hanging out someone’s window with nothing but her gear and and a half-buttoned shirt on. “Drinking.” 

“At this hour?” 

Nanaba’s farther gone than he expected. “The rest of the Corps are in town,” she grins, swinging backwards so far he’s afraid she’s going to fall off the windowsill. “Day after an expedition and all,” she says. “Even your pretty boyfriend’s with us, come on.” 

“No,” he says, irritable. 

Nanaba pouts. “Levi.” 

“No.” 

“Levi.”

“No.” 

“ _Levi_.”

Silence. His eye twitches.

Then: “I’ll be there in a minute.” 

A cheer goes up when he finally gets around to knocking, Levi standing stiffly in the corridor, eyeing the way everyone’s sprawled out — loose and unassuming — on the floor of Hanji’s room. There’s an empty case of beer, and a bottle of whiskey, another of bourbon. Mike’s holding onto something that looks like wine, though it bubbles every time he unscrews the cork. 

When Levi slides down against the wall just underneath the window, he can’t help but feel Erwin’s eyes on him from where he’s leaning against Hanji’s bedpost, one leg stretched out in front of him, arm draped over a bent knee. He’s halfway through a glass of bourbon, and the hard alcohol’s flushed high across his cheeks, hair falling loose over his forehead. 

Levi wrinkles his nose when Mike pushes the leftover wine into his hands. “I’m okay,” he says, no other choice left but to pass the bottle onto Erwin, Nanaba kicking his knee when he turns to her.

“Just a sip, just a sip,” Hanji sing-songs. “Even the Commander’s drunk already.” 

“That's got nothing to do with me,” he says, though he finds his mouth dry when Erwin’s fingers brush his on his way to the bottle of wine. Levi settles back against the wall and tries to keep his eyes off of him, flushed-hot under his collar. “I don’t drink.”

Levi wonders, not for the first time, if this is how they’ve always been. He’s never been jealous of camaraderie, but it’s strange, thinking about the others seeing Erwin so relaxed. 

He doesn’t understand why his throat dries out the more he looks: Erwin’s eyes starting to turn down with the alcohol, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He’s rolled his sleeves up to the elbow and forgone the jacket tonight, naked without gear crossed over his chest and thighs. He’d forgotten how much power Erwin contained in his body alone, even his hands feel dangerous when he reaches up to finish off his bourbon.

Levi, faced with the line of this throat, has to look away. His hope of going unnoticed dies the minute he makes eye contact with Mike, and he must look like he’d rather die than be in this room with the rest of them because he nearly chokes on his next inhale, wheezing out a laugh.

“Levi,” Erwin says quietly, when the others are busy distracted by him. Levi looks over at him, expression mild. “Come here?” 

His eyes flick to the rest of the group, then back to him. Levi frowns, then shrugs, dusting off his pants when he gets to his feet. Erwin gives him a strange look, as if he expected him to crawl over to save from catching everyone’s eye, though they would’ve noticed anyway.

“What were you doing up so late?” is the first thing he asks, drunk enough to knock their shoulders together.

Levi watches Nanaba take shots. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

Erwin hums. Levi tries to ignore the heat of his arm where they’re pressed together. 

“Are you cold?” he asks, glancing back down at him. 

Levi shakes his head. “I’m fine.” 

He’s not very good conversation, even with the others tipsy and the late hour. In fact, he’s probably more sullen than he’d be sans nightmares, the lack of sleep starting to get to him with how hot the room is. Levi’s not going to nod off — old habits die hard — but it would be a lie to say he doesn’t consider it at the very least. 

Everyone gets progressively drunker. The jokes get cruder, a little louder. Nanaba makes a rude gesture and Mike surprises Levi by making one back, tipping his head back to laugh when she upends her glass of wine in his face. The rosé shouldn’t stain, though it sticks his shirt to his skin in awkward squares, his collar warping with the weight of it. 

At some point, Erwin started leaning his weight against Levi, lips curling up into an easy, warbling smile. He stays quiet though. Levi can appreciate that, even though it’s getting harder to breathe, not sure what to do with himself when he’s faced with Erwin so close.

Erwin must be drunker than he realized, or bolder, because he touches Levi’s face with two fingers to catch his attention, Hanji hooting in the background and kicking the other two in the arm so they turn in time to watch Erwin lean in and kiss him. 

It’s barely a press of their lips together, and over before Levi can make sense of what’s going on. It’s worse, listening to the catcalls, when he’s so dazed that he nearly reaches up to touch his mouth to check it’s still there, cheeks flushed pinprick pink. 

“Oh, shit,” Mike says, clutching Hanji’s arm. He’s looking between them, hair falling over his eyes like a dog’s. “They’re in love.” 

Levi yanks Erwin’s glass out of his hands before either of them realizes what he’s doing. He throws it at Mike’s head, embarrassed. “Shut up,” he says. 

Nanaba laughs. 

Levi’s in the middle of flipping her off when Erwin pulls Levi closer, wraps his whole body around him: sweaty, overgrown.

“Hey,” he says, cheeks burning. He pushes uselessly at his shoulder, trying to get him off. “The fuck’s gotten into you?” 

Erwin doesn’t reply. He keeps his chin on Levi’s shoulder. 

“Are you falling asleep on me?” Levi asks, incredulous. He hits Erwin’s thigh, and then every other part of him that he can reach. “ _Erwin_.” 

“He drank a lot before you came,” Hanji says, sprawling out on the floor. Mike follows suit, though his legs don’t quite fit the way theirs does — toes hitting the door as he flattens out to his stomach. “I didn’t realize he’d get like this though.” 

“Yeah, neither did I,” Levi grumbles. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew.” 

Nanaba snorts. “You would’ve come even if he was dead.” 

He flips her off, but finds that he can’t muster up much else in way of insult.

Then: “Who do you see?” Erwin murmurs, curling over Levi’s frame to hide the way his mouth moves.

Levi goes cold. 

“You’re fishing,” he says, refusing to let the pain of it show. He thought he was worth more.

Erwin kisses his jaw. There’s no heat behind the touch. “Yes.”

_ ("We have a traitor in our midst.") _

Levi’s eyes flick back to the group. He hasn’t felt so guarded since his days Underground; stupid of him to forget that manipulation works differently here — subtler, with the political edge he still hasn’t learned to read on his own. 

“I don’t know,” he says. He pushes Erwin’s arm off his shoulder. He doesn’t resist it this time. “I have to go,” he says, getting to his feet. He can’t stand being here. 

“Hey,” Hanji says, nearly knocking over their drink. “You leaving already?”

Levi’s at the door, can feel the eyes on him. He refuses to turn and look at Erwin, hates the way his lungs have turned to ice inside his chest. He doesn’t know why he’s so bothered by all of this because he should’ve known; Erwin’s been playing the long game since birth, always half a mind ahead of everyone else. It was naive of him to forget that.

“It’s your room, Zoë,” Levi says, turning the knob. There are no such things as friends. Not in a place like this. “I don’t belong here.”

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

When Levi sees Erwin at the edge of the field, late in the night with Kenny’s voice trapped inside him, it feels like Rod Reiss’ Titan crushed him whole and dragged his corpse through the dirt. He hadn’t realized how much the distance had hurt. 

It isn’t until he’s standing shoulder to shoulder with Erwin on the Wall does he think: _Oh._

That’s what it is. 

_I was homesick for you._

 

**♖♕♔♕♖**

 

When Erwin dies, Levi does not cry. 

He closes his ruined eyelids with a gentle touch of thumb and forefinger, gentler, he thinks, than he’s ever touched anyone in his life. There is a sense of hollowness inside him. Then the weight of being emptied, pitted like a peach. 

The worst part is not that Erwin is gone, that he has left Levi without purpose; see, look, he’s thought about this a lot. The worst part is that he knew it was coming, and Levi has always been powerless to deny him anything he wanted. 

“It’s alright,” he says, Erwin’s cold skin against the blood on his arms. Levi cradles his body like a child’s, smoothing a hand down his swollen chest, the broken ribcage. There’s nothing else he knows how to do. Erwin’s always been the talker, of the two of them, held the conversation up on his own. 

Levi looks out the window and past the Walls, thinks of what Erwin had told him, once— _the sun is also a star._  

“Look,” he says. There are so many of them. Levi’s voice is strangely wet. It'll be alright. “You’re going home now.” 

He tips his head up to the sky. 

“You’re going home.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **約束する** = (v.) to promise
> 
> thanks for reading ! 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/gaarababy) / [tumblr](http://seokjins.tumblr.com)


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